


Rushing To Wait

by Gala_and_Elle, gala_apples



Series: Slantverse [35]
Category: Bandom, Gym Class Heroes, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gala_and_Elle/pseuds/Gala_and_Elle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William just wants it to be Monday, so he can be with Travis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rushing To Wait

William’s entire weekend is spent waiting for Monday. It’s not the first time in his life he’s just wanted Saturday and Sunday done with. There have been some amazing field trips in his past, his elementary school really pushed outside the classroom education. But it probably _is_ the first time biding his time has been about wanting to see another teenager. He’s sixteen, and it’s the first time he’s met someone in RL that he feels desperate to meet again.

The wait is difficult. His online friends are great, in some cases they’ve literally kept him alive since he got his first computer at eleven. But there’s no question they’re less of a lure when he can almost still feel Travis’ weight on him. He’s got friends in a dozen different time zones, someone to talk to every minute of the weekend. None of them hold his attention for more than a few minutes before his thoughts drift back to Travis.

Gabe doesn’t come online until later afternoon Saturday. William smiles when the ‘G.A.B.E. has logged on’ box pops up in the corner and clicks over. He’s not expecting much coherency, just hangover spelling and a good _you should have come_ ramble. He wants to talk anyway. There are anecdotes to be told.

D-tales: hey

G.A.B.E.: mornin’

D-tales: for you, maybe

G.A.B.E.: fuck off. it was a long night

D-tales: yeah?

G.A.B.E.: TorD lasted 4 hours. had 3 orgasms. i think. maybe more.

William can see how that would be a long night. A great night, one he could have fun with if he had any balls at all, but exhausting. He clicks away to answer 54obsessions’ question, and then clicks back to begin the slow process of mining for details. It’s good and bad for him; he likes reading it like a story but he can’t help but feel jealous when he remembers it’s real and he can’t have it.

In the long run though, Gabe’s no help, neither distracting him from thoughts of Monday nor telling him great stories about Travis. In fact, when he asks specifically the only thing Gabe says is _Tree! loling forever_. Leaving a trail of question marks results in Gabe saying it’ll be way funnier if he asks Travis, which probably means it’s something embarrassing, which means he’ll never ask. Potential subs don’t ask potential doms embarrassing questions.

Finally it’s Monday. The instant he wakes up William wants to race to Travis’ locker and get things going. He can barely eat. He takes a bite of cereal then goes to his bedroom to change his clothes, takes a bite then goes to the bathroom to brush his hair again. By the time the bowl is half done the milk is cream coloured and the cereal bits are mush. He frowns and scrapes it into the garbage and puts the bowl in the sink, ignoring his mother’s look.

She doesn’t stop looking, once they’re in the car. William doesn’t feel particularly scared for his life, he’s pretty used to her driving routine. There’s always something besides the road she’s looking at. She doesn’t ask though, and unless she asks William isn’t saying shit. He’s got important things to think about, like planning great opening lines, ways to impress Travis while maintaining at least some respect for himself.

It’s not until he gets past the double doors at the side of school that he realises he doesn’t know where said locker is. Actually, come to think of it, he doesn’t even know if Travis goes to Timmons. He can’t imagine he doesn’t. It goes against both Gabe’s slant and Gabe’s basic nature to do that to him, to plan something so poorly. On the other hand, he can’t say he’s actually seen him around. Most of Gabe’s friends William knows by name but couldn’t pick out of a line up. It’s not like Travis is Nate or Victoria. William can’t help but watch them, with or without Gabe. He wants to understand how they work.

Thankfully there’s an easy solution. He doesn’t have Gabe’s number but aside from AIM they’re also Twitter friends. He doesn’t need a hundred and forty characters to ask Gabe where Travis is. Gabe sends back a locker number less than a minute later. It’s on the second floor, so William treks up the stairs. Before he exits the stairwell he reaches behind him, making sure his hem is laying flat, not hitching up his ass and showing his back. He can at least attempt to look decent.

Travis looks just as great as he did on Friday. Tall, strong, capable, and concerned while still calm. Putting it shortly, it’s everything William wants in a dom. Travis said they’d discuss expectations today but William’s heart is on it’s knees. He doesn’t want to test, just wants to be his.

“Hi.” His voice sounds ridiculous to his own ears. He hopes it’s not as bad for Travis. He won’t want him if every word is painful to listen to.

“Hey William. Have a good weekend?”

He can barely stop himself from asking if Travis wants him to have had a good weekend. “Okay, I guess. Not as crazy as yours. Not that I’m judging your choices.”

“Wasn’t anything big.”

William knows he meant it in a reassuring way, but considering he knows Travis was in an orgy, the reply is terrifying. If an orgy doesn’t impress him how is he supposed to? “Oh.”

“So I was thinking about you. I got you something for today.” Travis crams one hand in the backpack at his feet and William’s heart flutters. Then rapidly sinks when he pulls out a fur covered pen. “Whenever you're not writing notes, rub it on your arm. I'll see you at lunch.”

“Oh. Uh. Okay.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“William,” Travis answers, a warning note in his voice.

“Nothing.” Nothing’s actually wrong, he’s just stupid.

“I really don’t like lying, man.”

“Okay. I guess. I guess I just thought. I dunno. A collar?”

“William, collars mean love and respect and cherishing. I want that, but you have to admit we don't have it yet. I mean, I’d have to ask Gabe anything I wanted to know about you.”

“You could ask me?”

“I can’t collar you until I don’t _have_ to ask. So do what I say, find me at lunch, and we’ll start eliminating or adding possibilities. Or if you don’t want me, want this, don’t rub. It’s your choice.” He holds out the pen, and what else can William do but take it?

There are three periods before lunch. William’s grateful they’re all sit down classes. Not that he would _ever_ take theatre or film making, but it would be difficult to rub a pen up his arm for forty five minutes if he was doing a monologue. American History, Chemistry and Ancient Civilizations all provide ample time to stroke his arm. It’s not as soft as he’d figured it would be. The fuzzball at the top is, of course. The fur, not so much. It’s got tiny pieces of tinsel woven in for bits of silver glint, and the edges of the tinsel are sharp.

He’s hardly the first teen in Timmons to get hard during class. Realistically, William’s willing to bet every student has at least one orgasm during school hours some time in the four years before graduation. It’s still awkward to want to jerk off as Wilson talks about the mummification process. Not that anyone ever notices him, but now would be a really bad time for someone to look over. He doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s aroused by pulling out a corpse’s brain with a hook. There are slants and then there are slants.

The lunch bell leaves William hard, pent up, and with a dilemma. He could tweet Gabe again, ask him to ask Travis to go to his locker. But the more he invites Gabe into their relationship the more Gabe will feel comfortable barging in when not invited, and William has a feeling he shouldn’t add to Gabe’s already sweeping need to interfere. So instead he goes where he knows Travis will be; the cafeteria. Even though he hates people -or at least can’t possibly trust them- and the cafeteria has the highest concentration of people in the school, he goes. Because Travis wants him to, and William is trying to want what Travis wants.

William knows intellectually that Gabe -and by extension Travis- has a lot of friends. It’s different hearing stories on MSN of all his friends and actually seeing an entire caf table filled with teenagers. Someone William doesn’t know spots him first and reaches past two people to lightly smack the back of Travis’ head. It barely indents the puff of his hair, but William can’t help but gasp. People shouldn’t be touching Travis like that.

Travis gets the message though, because he twists until he can see him. He raises an orange hoodied arm and beckons him over. William goes, eyes on the floor so he can’t see how many people are staring at him. Before he bumps into the table, or trips over one of Travis’ friend’s backpacks, or something else horrific, Travis is standing and pulling him into a hug.

It’s like all the weight in the world has fallen off his shoulders. He even finds himself standing taller for a moment, before slouching against him. He can’t even remember the last time someone hugged him.

Travis pulls away. William has to make his upperbody not follow him like a worm towards sun. Travis is smiling at him though, which prolongs the safe feeling. And then he speaks, and the words send a chord of joy through him. “You made me proud. Chiz told me you were doing it all class.”

“Hah! I was right. Take that Pete!” William really isn’t surprised that Gabe’s been arguing with someone about whether or not he’d be a good sub for Travis. Knowing Gabe, it probably came up several times during the party, different levels of coherency at different amounts of alcohol consumption.

Presumably Pete awnsers, “fuckin' yenta.”

“Excuse me? Look who’s talking. Just say I’m right and this will all be over quickly.”

“Hey Victoria,” someone down the table calls “his ego is erect again. Can you take care of that for us, before he spunks all over the table?”

Victoria, looking amazing as always, replies with a smirk. “Hey, once in a while he does something right. Let him have this one.”

The chattering of the table drifts away from him when Travis puts a hand on his hip to focus him. “You came here, and I’m glad you did. But you’d be happier hidden, wouldn’t you?”

William nods his head yes, because what else can he do? Travis would want him to be brave, better than scampering away pathetically. But he also hates lying.

“That’s not always going to be true. But for now, show me a safe place to eat.”

“Bye William!” half the table calls out as they walk away. It doesn’t sound like a catcall, and William wants to believe Gabe and Travis’ friends are better than that. He still flinches. He doesn’t relax until Travis reaches for his hand. Like that, he feels safe from the attention.  



End file.
